


Passion of the Snake

by jaybelle93



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M, No Underage Sex, Underage - Freeform, WIP, kinda not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 02:05:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6546025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaybelle93/pseuds/jaybelle93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if everything you've ever known, was nothing like it seemed? - Harry Potter and Severus Snape, soul mates decided by fate, are chosen to defeat the most powerful dark wizards of their time. But what's going to happen to the fate of the Wizarding World, if Harry grew up in a world where he believed he was the only Chosen One? *AU. WIP. SNARRY. SLASH. YOAI. HP/SS.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A huge shout out to my lovely beta All Tears Must Fall from ff.net for editing this chapter for me!

**Passion of the Snake**

_A Snarry Story_

**Prologue: Through Glass**

"T-take them..." Snape stuttered. Long potion-stained fingers fisted themselves into the front of Harry's jacket as wispy, glowing tendrils poured out of his eyes and ears. Harry ground his teeth together, hands slippery with blood as he pressed them into the gaping wound in Snape's throat, wands left forgotten next to them on the floor of the Shrieking Shack.

"Hermione, don't just stand there!" He shouted, frustrated as she remained motionless, mouth hanging open and fingers gripping Ron's forearm as she tried to process the image in front of her.

"Damn it, Hermione, help me!" As if hearing Harry swear startled her, she sprung into action, digging through her bottomless pouch. Soon, she was slapping something into his hand, and he almost swore again when he saw it was a small, empty bottle.

"Where is the Essence of Dittany?"

"Harry, it won't-" Hermione cut herself off, eyes flashing over to Snape before she continued. "It won't help. They're memories, you need something to put them in."

A gurgling sound coming from Snape stopped Harry from arguing with the bushy-haired witch, and Harry came to the realization that Snape was going to drown in his own blood. Emerald eyes met onyx, and Harry knew Snape realized this as well.

"T-take-" Snape choked. "-the pensieve..."

Harry nodded, resolve hardening his eyes as he pulled the stopper from the vial with his teeth and held it to Snape's cheek, filling it with memories before sealing his thumb over the top. Snape removed his hands from Harry's front and used his weak strength to push Harry's other hand from his neck.

"Harry..." Snape gurgled again, nails digging into the younger wizard's forearm, and Harry watched as the life faded from his eyes. Harry wasn't sure where it came from, but he was suddenly overcome with grief, his chest tightening and bile rising in his throat.

 _Severus_...

It was like a brush of a memory trying to surface, and Harry had to squash his confusion and put all of his emotions away behind a mask. He couldn't focus on any of that right now. There was a war going on and it was Snape's dying wish for him to view these memories. Swallowing hard, Harry stood from Snape's cooling body. He now had no idea how to think of the man lying before him. Not even an hour ago, thinking of Snape made his blood boil with rage, stomach lurching with disgust. Now...

Now, he was empty.

"Harry..." Hermione whispered, blinking back unshed tears and reaching out for him. When he looked up at her with emotionless eyes, she cleared her throat and let her hand drop back to her side.

"Dumbledore's office," she stated.

Harry's brow furrowed. "What?"

"There's a pensieve in Dumbledore's office." Hermione answered. "Go."

"Right, " Harry sighed out. He bent down and picked up the bloody cork, replacing his thumb with the stopper so he didn't spill any memories. "What about-" he started, before Hermione cut him off.

"We'll take care of him, so when this is all over we can give him a proper burial."

Resigned, Harry walked over to his two best friends. Ron was staring at him with an inexpressive look on his face, Harry knew he never liked their surly Potion's Master. Hermione was flushed, and even if Snape wasn't her favorite professor, his death was gruesome (and unnecessary.)

Pulling her into his arms, Harry hugged Hermione to him tightly.

"Stay safe." She whispered, and Harry nodded, letting her go so he could shake hands with Ron. The red-haired wizard gave him a cheeky grin and pulled him into a hug instead.

"Good luck, Harry." Ron grumbled out, and Harry nodded again before giving them both one last look-over.

"You two do everything you can to finish off the last of the horcruxes," he told them, and they both gave him a solemn nod of affirmation before Harry had to turn his back on them to avoid the swell of emotion trying to rise. He had to double back to grab the two wands lying by Snape's body and was surprised to feel the ebony wand heat up in his hand - like his own had the first time he held it in Olivander's shop. Frowning, he met the questioning gaze of his friends. He knew he should tell them what he just felt but couldn't find the words to describe it.

"If anyone was to stumble upon Snape's body, his wand should be protected for his burial," Harry explained. He left out the fact that the thought of someone else touching Snape's wand made him angry beyond belief. Shoving that emotion down and away with the others for future processing, he pocketed Draco's wand and gripped Snape's with white knuckles. Avoiding Hermione's piercing look and Ron's shocked one, he left the room with a curt parting nod.

He followed the familiar route through the shack, exiting on to the secret pathway which lead to the base of the Whomping Willow. He was heading straight into the fray, right into the front lines surrounding Hogwarts. He was going to face Death Eaters and dark creatures and might possibly, very probably, lose his life in a show down against Voldemort himself, and the only thing he could think about was Snape.

Snape with the haunting eyes that looked at him in a way no-one had before: like he _knew_ him, everything about him, deep down to his very soul. But Snape was dead, and no-one was going to look at him that way again.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, a loud shout of a curse and an explosion to his left knocked him out of his stupor. With a spell on the tip of his tongue, Harry waited until a large gnarly branch passed by his hiding spot before running out into the battle. The last thing he needed was a stray Death Eater to see the hidden passageway and find Ron and Hermione taking care of Snape's body.

"Reducto!" He snarled, the spell blasting a half-transformed werewolf who was charging at him. Adrenaline was running rampant in his system, and it took all of his self-control to not stay in the fight, but he knew getting to the castle was his top priority. However, that didn't stop him from cursing every Death Eater that came across his path.

"Potter!"

Harry turned to see Macnair and Avery running towards him and he halted his movements, smirking as Snape's wand thrummed in his hand as he shouted out a spell created by the Half-Blood Prince himself.

"Sectumsempra!" Harry growled, and Macnair went down screaming as a variety of deep and shallow lacerations covered his entire body. Avery's lips curled up in a sneer as he stood before Harry, eyeing him warily.

"You'll pay for that, Potter!" He spat, only increasing Harry's amusement.

"Will I?" He muttered, side stepping as he and Avery circled each other. Their respective wands held out in front of them, preparing to strike, their eyes never breaking contact. Harry knew Avery was stupid enough to try to kill him, going against his Lord's direct orders to cause him no harm. He also knew that Avery was the more advanced in spell casting, so a little taunting should get him riled up and distracted enough for Harry to take him down.

"You won't touch me," Harry announced. "You'll be in a great more deal of pain if Voldemort found out you had the first round on his long awaited prize."

"Don't speak his name as if you were worthy of it!" Avery snarled, throwing a curse intended to crush all of his internal organs, which Harry easily blocked.

"I'm sure a low level Death Eater such as yourself was never privileged enough to know this, but Voldemort marked me as his equal the night he tried to kill me. Thanks to this wretched scar, I have the power to defeat him." His smirk relaxed into a scowl, eyes hardening as he continued. "Voldemort will die and I will be the one to do it."

"LIES!" Avery screamed, spittle flying from his lips as his face reddened with rage. "CRUCI-" The spell died on his lips as Harry effectively cast the severing charm and sliced through his carotid arteries. Avery collapsed with a solid thud, blood rapidly pooling out of his fatal injuries, soaking the ground around him.  
Harry knew the Death Eater deserved a more prolonged and painful death, revenge for all the innocent lives he destroyed, but there wasn't enough time.  
The remorse that he should have felt after killing another human being was smothered by the relief that he knew the people he loved could no longer be harmed by those two sadistic wizards. The utter exhaustion his body was feeling started to take over his senses but Harry had to push away all thoughts of rest as he took off again towards Hogwarts.

"Protego!"

"Stupefy!"

"Reducto!"

"Immobulus!"

Harry wasn't sure how many spells, charms, hexes and curses he threw, taking down a variety of dark creatures and Death Eaters. Prongs drove away dementors while he blasted away werewolves, exploded acromantulas and decapitated the few vampires that had joined Voldemort's ranks. He was covered in multiple kinds of blood when he finally reached the castle doors.

"Watch out 'Arry!" He heard Hagrid yell at him, and he ducked just in time to see Grawp knock an acromantula away from behind him. The half giant scooped him up into his arms in an almost bone crushing hug.

"So glad yer safe, 'Arry." The burly man grumbled into his hair.

"Thanks, Hagrid." Harry returned the hug the best he could before being set down on the ground again.

"Now get so I can kick some Death Eater arse!" Harry resisted the urge to grin as Hagrid lumbered off behind his half-brother, brandishing his giant pink umbrella.

Harry took the grand staircase's steps two at a time as he raced upward toward the Headmaster's office. He was only briefly stalled by the Carrow twins whom he finished off with two quickly muttered Diffindo charms. Chest heaving, he maneuvered through the many changing staircases, all thankfully in the correct positions for him to travel to the office as quickly as possible. Miraculously unharmed, Harry stood before the gargoyle guarding the office door.  
Once it saw who was standing before it, the gargoyle immediately stepped aside to allow him entrance.

Nodding in thanks, Harry made his way inside and found the pensieve sitting on the ornate desk in the middle of the room. Harry approached it with a grim expression adorning his face and was surprised to see his reflection in the empty bowl. He had never seen the magical artifact without previous memories in it before. Sighing, Harry moved to extract the vial full of memories from his jacket pocket, but stopped short when he saw his reflection didn't quite match up with his movements. He spent a few moments mouthing words and turning his head from side to side to come to the conclusion that the light, or his eyes, were playing tricks on him.

Without breaking eye contact with his reflection, Harry retrieved the bottle, uncorked it and upended the memories into the vessel. However, the memories didn't pour into the liquid; they clung to the surface like condensation on a window. He couldn't squash his rising horror as he watched his reflection smile - a grateful, welcoming smile - and reach up through what he assumed was glass, pulling him into the pensieve. Harry couldn't even muster up a scream of protest as he felt himself falling, his world spinning around him into nothingness.

And when he awoke, it was to the sound of his mother, calling his name.


	2. Chapter 1: When You Were Young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone so much for all of the kind reviews and all the kudos I received! And of course another huge shout out to my wonderful beta, All Tears Must Fall! Enjoy everyone!

* * *

**Passion of the Snake**

_A Snarry Story_

**Chapter One: When You Were Young**

"Harry!"

Said wizard groaned, rolling over in his bed. He was slowly starting to gain consciousness, but all he wanted to do was go back to sleep. It was still too early for him to get up... It was the weekend after all.

"Harry, wake up!"

Harry grumbled into his pillow, pulling his comforter up over his head. His mother was going to drive him crazy with all her shouting.

His mother...

Lily Potter.

His mother - who was dead, which meant he-

Was he dead?

Suddenly everything came rushing back to him, all of his memories washing over him. The invasion made his brain feel like it was splitting in two, and Harry buried his face into the pillow beneath him to muffle his cry of distress. His fingers clutched at his temples, trying to relieve the pain as he writhed on his bed in agony.

Each new memory that replayed across his eyelids shocked his system like electricity, adding to the ever increasing pressure that made his head feel like it was going to burst any moment. He recalled bits and pieces as they filtered past, watching some of his happiest and worst memories like they were a film.

Waking up in the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursley's; getting to read his Hogwarts letter; bonding with Hedwig; his first Qudditch match; saving the Philosopher's Stone; meeting Dobby; learning he was a Parselmouth; destroying Tom Riddle's diary; riding Buckbeak; meeting the Marauders; his name being drawn from the Goblet of Fire; watching Voldemort rise again; kissing Cho; teaching DA lessons; learning the prophecy; Sirius dying; using the Half-Blood Prince's potion book; Snape killing Dumbledore; hunting for Horcruxes; escaping Gringott's; Voldemort's army invading the grounds of Hogwarts; Snape dying; using the pensieve; falling, falling, falling...

And as quickly as it began, the pain vanished, leaving Harry panting and exhausted as he tried to recover from the onslaught. He rolled over onto his back, gasping in fresh air, his head still throbbing. Harry kept his eyes tightly clenched, but a few stubborn tears leaked out the corners and trickled down the sides of his face.

"Harry James Potter, don't make me come up these stairs and get you up myself!"

There was no way that could be a figment of his imagination. With shaky arms, Harry pushed himself up into a sitting position before clearing his throat of the phlegm that settled there in his sleep.

"I'm up, Mum!" He called down to her, however his voice was an octave too high. Brows furrowed, Harry reached out blindly to his right to try and find his glasses. Once located, he placed them on his face and was able to get a good look at the room he was in.

Sun was filtering through sheer golden curtains, which meant his room was facing the East. There was a small desk nestled under the windowsill, bare except for a half melted candle in a brass holster, a quill, and a small vat of ink. The walls were painted a neutral off-white, however there was a vast amount of Gryffindor memorabilia that seemed to be taking over. The walls were covered in Quidditch pennants, and his bed was centered underneath a tapestry of the Gryffindor crest on the south wall, facing a fireplace with a racing broom on the mantle.

All of the woodwork seemed to be made especially for this room as it was all made of the same cherrywood. A wardrobe stood to the right of his ornately carved four-poster bed and a nightstand was placed to the left of it. A bookshelf full of First year spell books and fairy tales was residing in the corner of the north wall to the right of the fireplace, and a shelf with coat hangers was mounted on the wall next to his door. A Gryffindor House scarf was hanging from one hook, as well as a black cloak that seemed five sizes too small for him. Harry tossed the maroon quilt off his lap, and stood from his bed, toes curling into a maroon and gold rug. This couldn't possibly be his room. It looked like it belonged to someone who was just about to be leaving for Hogwarts.

Harry searched under his pillow for Snape's wand, however it was no where to be found. It wasn't under the bed either. Nearly stubbing his toe on a trunk at the foot of his bed, he confirmed his initials were on the front and grumbled to himself as he unlatched and opened it to find it completely empty. No wands, no invisibility cloak, no Marauder's map, no mirror shard, nothing. Now he was starting to panic.

He rushed over to his wardrobe to find some decent clothes to put on to go find out what was going on, only to stop dead in front of a freestanding full length mirror in the corner of his room as he got a glimpse of his reflection.

A small scrawny boy that looked no older than eleven, with wild brown hair, so dark it was almost black, emerald green eyes hidden behind big round glasses, and dressed in white pajamas with red and gold pinstripes was staring back at him. Hands shaking, he reached up to pinch his cheeks and was horrified to find his reflection mimicking him. He stumbled closer, pushing up his fringe to find his forehead bare.

What the hell was happening? Was there a De-Aging potion in that pensieve? But where was his scar?

Trying to smother his anxiety the best he could, Harry didn't even bother changing before fleeing his room and going down the hall to the stairwell. He didn't get very far before he stopped in his tracks at the top of the stairs, eyes wide in awe as he stared at the woman standing at the bottom. She was a head taller than him, with firey auburn locks that were pulled back away from her face, and stunning green eyes that matched his own, lit with anger. She was dressed in Muggle clothing: black cotton capri pants, a lilac blouse, and a denim jacket. She had her hands on her hips in a classic "angry mum" pose, tapping her foot.

"How many times do I have to call for you, Harry?" She questioned. Harry couldn't stop the tears from welling up, overwhelmed with emotion from seeing his mother for the first time in the flesh.

"M-mum?" He stuttered, and Lily's annoyed look relaxed into one of concern.

"Harry, hun, what's wrong?"

"Mum!" He shouted, feeling ever the eleven year old, as he barreled down the stairs toward her and came crashing into Lily. She wrapped her arms around him the best she could as they fell, Lily landing on her back with Harry crying uncontrollably into her chest. She pet his hair as she tried to soothe him, whispering encouraging words.

Hearing the front door open, Lily tilted her head back to see James walking in, dressed in Auror robes. He had just returned from an over night raid and she was sure he was exhausted. She gave her husband a smile in response to the confused look on his face at the sight of the two of them on the floor in the entry way.

"What's going on?" James asked, taking off his outer robe and hanging it up on the coat rack next to the door. Sniffling, Harry lifted his head from the crook of his mother's neck, croaking out a questioning. "Dad?"

James knelt down next to his wife and son, brushing Harry's fringe back away from him face. Before he could ask if he was okay, Harry sat up and wrapped his arms around his father's middle, tears flowing again. Lily was rubbing her hand in circles on Harry's back, trying to calm him down again. She exchanged glances with her husband, shrugging to convey she had no idea what had come over their son.

"Harry," James murmured. He thought he might know what was going on. "Is this about Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts?" Harry croaked out, lifting his head from his father's chest.

James nodded, continuing. "I know you were worried about what House you were going to be sorted into. Are all these tears because of that?"

This was definitely not because of something as trivial as that. He was finally meeting his parents. After years of every one around him expressing how much he was like them, he was getting to find out first hand. He was going to savor every moment he had with them until he figured out what was going on. However, he couldn't tell Lily and James any of that, so he figured he was just going to roll with the alibi they were giving him.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled, forcing a blush on his face to try and look embarrassed.

"There is nothing to worry about, Harry. There's never been a Potter sorted in any place other than Gryffindor." James grinned, ruffling his sons hair.

Lily rolled her eyes, getting to her feet as she helped her son up off the floor.

"You know, James, I wouldn't get ahead of yourself just yet. He does take after me and Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

His Mum was in Ravenclaw? Things definitely weren't the same.

Lily started to walk out of the room and James pouted, steering Harry to follow his mother into their kitchen.

"No, of course not, love." James murmured into his wife's hair and kissed her cheek. "I'm going to go and freshen up."

Lily nodded in response, heading over to the refrigerator. Harry noticed there was an assortment of Muggle and Wizard items in the kitchen, a perfect blend of the two family backgrounds.

"Are you ready for breakfast, Harry?" She asked, pulling out a carton of eggs and a slab of bacon.

"'Course, Mum." He made his way over to the Muggle stove where a cast iron skillet was resting and flicked on the gas, picking up the bacon and unwrapping it. "I can cook this."

Lily gave him an incredulous look. "Since when can you cook?" She blurted and Harry dropped the tongs he had grabbed, startled. He'd never cooked?

"Yeah, uh. I watched a show on the telly?" He sent a quick prayer up to Merlin that they owned a television.

Lily seemed to take the answer well and Harry shooed her away from the stove. "I got this, Mum." He told her, remembering all the times he made breakfast for his "family."

She relented, going over to their kitchen table and picking up the cup of coffee she had left there to settle down and watch her son cook.

To say Lily was surprised by how easily Harry maneuvered around the kitchen was an understatement. The young wizard had showed no interest in cooking before today. After the episode earlier, and now this, she had a feeling that something was not right. Taking another sip of her drink, she hid the frown that now marred her features. She would have to have a talk with James later.

She had to refrain from jumping when she felt a hand on the small of her back as her husband sat down beside her.

"Is he feeling ok?" James asked her quietly, motioning toward Harry who was whipping up a pancake batter.

Lily shrugged, however before she could respond Harry placed a mug of coffee before James, as well as the containers of cream and sugar.

She watched as he retrieved the pot and refilled her own cup and made one of his own before returning with platters full of steaming fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and piles of pancakes. He sat down the butter and syrup next to the assortment and, before slowing down, Harry put plates and silverware before his parents and made up his own place setting.

"Breakfast is served!" Harry announced with a grin.

James' brows rose up to his hair line in surprise by the amount of food sitting before them. It all looked and smelled delicious. When did his son learn how to cook?

It was a question to be asked at a later date. Right now he was starving and the post should be arriving soon.

"Harry, would you mind opening the window so the Ministry owl doesn't run into it?"

Harry nodded, moving over to the window behind his mother's seat and opening it. The bird in question was soaring along the horizon toward their home and Harry took a moment to view the houses surrounding theirs.

He felt his heart clench as a wave of emotion slammed into him at the fact he recognized they were living in Godric's Hollow. His imagination was really messing with him now.

He blinked away the few stray tears that came to his eyes and held his arm out for the snowy owl that reminded him so much of Hedwig. James handed him the appropriate amount of money for the delivery and Harry tucked the coins into the pouch on the bird's leg and removed the Daily Prophet.

Before James could ask for the paper, Harry was sitting down and unrolling it, intrigued to see what year it was and what was going on in this Wizarding World.

Harry refrained from cringing when he saw the date: May 2nd 1991 scrawled across the top of the front page. So he hadn't had his 11th birthday. He knew he should have expected as much because his father mentioned being sorted at Hogwarts, but it still sent a jolt of panic through his system. He was defenseless and his magic was too inexperienced to protect him against Voldemort.

The thought of the Dark Lord made Harry's brow furrow as he scoured the Prophet to find there was no mention of him.

Instead, any mention of strange happenstances was said to have been caused by Gellert Grindlewald and his mystery partner, the darkest wizards of their time: The Dark Ones.


End file.
